


What John Can't Do

by sparkly_butthole



Series: The Future Is Ours [6]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Friends joke, M/M, also hard to think of something John can't do, because it's cute, other than dancing, shamelessly stolen idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 02:21:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10867017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkly_butthole/pseuds/sparkly_butthole
Summary: This is just… inhumane. Should be illegal in Council space. The man should be court-martialed for being this goddamn evil. Taken to the shuttle bay and shot. Thrown out the airlock. That’s a good idea. I should call Javik.





	What John Can't Do

_ What. The. FUCK. _

I’m getting the distinct feeling that I’m being punished here, and not in the sexy way. There’s a kind of pain that shouldn’t exist, especially in the middle of this particular activity. It’s radiating outwards, up my spine and down my legs. Everything’s on fire. Surely Shepard knows better than to hurt me like this? I had to have done  _ something  _ wrong _. _

I wiggle and squirm underneath him, trying to send the signal to STOP without actually having to say it. Because it’d be horrible if he felt bad afterwards.

_ Shit! _

“Oh… feels good, doesn’t it?”

Are you kidding me, John? It hurts so bad I can’t even use words. 

“Mmmpf.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

I groan, half pleasure at the words and half agony at the… whatever it is he thinks he’s doing. 

Oh god my muscles are going to actually cramp soon. The pleasure’s not worth it!

How many people would kill to be in my position right now, underneath the great Commander Shepard himself? His hands could be all over anyone else in the galaxy, but he chose to put them on me. I should feel grateful, but I’m not sure how long I can hang in there.

Five minutes have passed since we started. I swear it’s been an hour. This is just… inhumane. Should be illegal in Council space. The man should be court-martialed for being this goddamn evil. Taken to the shuttle bay and shot. Thrown out the airlock. That’s a good idea. I should call Javik.

Another look at the clock… two minutes since the last time I checked. 

Ok, I’ve had enough of this.

“John-”

“Yeah, babe, I told you I’d treat you tonight. I’m the best boyfriend ever, huh?”

“Uh, yeah. You really are, but John-”

“You’re supposed to be relaxing, Alenko. Put your face down in the pillow and relax or I’ll have to do something about it.” He sounds like he wants to do something about it anyway.

Which, normally, yeah. I’d be all about that. 

But I am seriously dying here. 

“John  _ Shepard _ !”

He freezes, probably wondering what the hell caused that tone of voice. Especially in our bedroom. He typically requires a certain amount of… deference when we’re in this shared space together. So he knows it’s business one way or the other.

I’d better talk while I have his attention. “Shepard… do you really not know you’re bad at this?”

He’s quiet for a second. “Uh. How do you mean?”

“I mean that you should definitely not quit your day job. It’s not your thing, hon.”

He’s still quiet. 

Several seconds… half a minute…

“Shepard?” I finally inquire. 

He swings himself off my hips and slides into his spot beside me. I sit up on an elbow and glance over at him, but he’s laying on his stomach and facing away. 

“John. Look at me.”

And lo and behold, the man looks sad, like I’d just kicked his puppy. Or, more like, let his hamster out again.

I suppress a chuckle, because that would just be cruel at this point. Clearly, it bothers him that he’s not good at this...

I reach out to cup his cheek in my hand, smiling gently at him. 

“John. You really don’t have to be the best at everything. You’re better than literally almost everyone at literally almost everything. Give someone else a chance at something, eh?”

He’s looking at me all petulant and I just can’t get enough of that face… up until the ‘eh’ gets out of my mouth and then he’s laughing at me. 

“Yeah, speak more Canadian to me, baby. Gets me so hot and bothered! What d’you say, eh?”

How did the joke get turned around on me?

The laugh is short lived but he’s no longer grumpy, which is a relief. This is our happy hour, and who knows how many more we’ll get? 

“Alright. So it’s dancing… and apparently giving massages that I can’t do. But I swear to you, Alenko, nobody ever finds out about this. I will hunt you down and, and… and make you regret it!” 

I half expect him to start waving his fist at me. He’s always telling me I’m adorable but he hasn’t looked at himself in the mirror. He has no idea.

I just snicker and snuggle up to him. What happens in the captain’s cabin stays in the captain’s cabin, John. You should know that by now.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone else already stole Ross' sandwich from Friends, so here's another one. Friends is my favorite show ever and Shepard being as derpy on occasion as Monica tickles me pink.


End file.
